Prodigy
by Chance O'Neal
Summary: We know that Genius entered Vareth at the tender age of seven. However, here is a possible telling as to how that might have occurred. ONESHOT.


Radiata Stories is in need of some fics, so I decided to write a brief one-shot. This, needless to say, should be good.

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Child Prodigy

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"Hmm...Now, If I turn the cogs to the right..."

The hissing of steam abruptly stung seven-year old Genius Weissheit's ears, as he twisted a small handle in the basement of his father's home. The home was an abode of junk, machinery, and failed ideas (By all members of the family), and lofted with the smell of oil, sweat, and humanic delights. Genius, his brown hair askew, his clothes dirty, and his face wet, failed to notice any of this. He was so absorbed in his work.

"...Heat is produced in the form of steam. But If I turn it to the left..."

A burst of cold air came from the double-nossiled contraption, blasting into his glasses as he bent over to check maintenance.

"Darn it!" Genius said, rubbing his now-foggy glasses. After clearing them, the boy continued.

"And, to turn this off, this lever will be used..."

Above the double-nossiled cylinder was a single lever, currently tilted to the right. Genius grabbed it, and casually moved it to the left. The blasts of cold air halted abruptly, allowing the device to return to room temprature.

"Hehehehehehe..." Genius chuckled to himself, joy clearly on his face. "It may not be much, but this little gadget will help me during extreme weather alterations. Now, what to call it...?"

Behind him, Genius's father, the prestious technician and mechanic, Eldwin Weissheit, loomed over, studying his prodigiously clever son.

When Eldwin Weissheit had named his second son Genius, it was purely as a joke, a factor he neglected to tell his wife Carleigh until a year after his birth certificate was born. Yet now, seven years after his second bundle of joy was delivered into the world of Tottaus, Eldwin felt it had been divine intervintion that made him name his son Genius. In all essence, that was exactly what seven-year-old Genius was.

The tall, black-haired technician could barely believe the rapid development of Genius's young mind: His brain seemed to grow quicker than his body. He learned to walk by normal time, yes, but the young lad learned how to use door keys by the same time. As the parents began to see, the boy toliet-trained himself, and in the next months, ordinary toys soon began to bore him.

It was becoming clear, at that time, that Genius needed stimulation. By age five, Genius was able to understand sixth-grade material. Due to this, he was in many a disciplinary dispute, for he often challenged even the teacher's remarks on whether something was right or wrong.

Just like his dad.

Genius also had some social problems. Most kids his age didn't understand a word he was saying, and made fun of him for it. They also did not like how he corrected people for every little mistake they made on their "verbal points", as Genius would say. The kids of Radiata, needless to say, had difficulty accepting him, and he often stayed alone, performing various experiments to enlarge his knowlegde.

Genius was a super-nerd to the kids: To the adults, he was beyond belief.

So, Eldwin finally decided to do something concerning his second son.

Such was the case today, as he watched his son, in his dirty green, long-sleeve shirt and brown pants. Without bothering to tell him to change, Eldwin alerted his son of his presence.

"Genius! It's time to go to Vareth, like we agreed. If you're concerned about your toy, I'll have your mom watch it."

"Yes, Father," Genius said indifferently. Still in his head, Genius grabbed his coat and notebook, and handed his cylinder to his father, who placed it on the counter. Without much word left, the father and son headed out.

During the trip, Eldwin could tell Genius was not interested, as usual, in his father's doings today. While he had agreed to go with his father to this place called Vareth, he did not seem the least curious as to why. For the moment, Genius was more concerned on his notes, which he wrote fervently, as they walked past the Path of Fanaticism and Insanity. Eldwin could easily decipher Genius's mumblings as they went.

"Lets see...Light Elves have these prismatic wings and inherent magic abilities, while the dark elves do not. Dark Elves, according to the books," Genius muttered, "Might have once been Light Elves themselves, but became 'dark' when they left the Light Elf stronghold. Sunlight, perhaps, might have been the cause of the 'Darkening'? That seems to simple though..."

Day after day, young Genius would contemplate in solitude over the enigmas of the world, writing rapidily in his valued, three-ring notebook. He always wrote potential hypotheses to answer his far-reaching questions, since he could not always rely on his parents to answer the questions for him. He was rarely seen without it, for something always ended up on his mind: Not only that, but Genius personally felt if he could answer these questions, he could do something worthwhile. Defintely he would obtain self-gratification, but if there were other effects, he did not know yet.

His questions, mind-boggling to children his age, weren't restricted to anything. From the political and traditional factions of the Olacion Order to the enigmatic past of the chief of Theater Vancoor to his current scenario, the history of the Light Elves and Dark Elves, Genius was generally inquisitive about everything that puzzled him. The second son of the Weissheit family always saw these questions as a challenge, and felt he could not progress if he did not know every nook and cranny about it. His father once told him that geniuses should never waste time, and he was vigorously working for answers.

"If Dark Elves are merely Light Elves with a high concentration of brown pigment in their skin, it could explain their outward appearance. But if that is so, why wouldn't the Dark Elves have wings, if they were once Light Elves?" Genius pondered. Wiping his little brow, he continued to think over it. "Something might have happened...a disease, maybe? Oh, If I could get a Light Elf and find out exactly what those wings were made of, I'd have the answer, but I don't have a clue where they live..."

"Genius, we're here!" interrupted his father Eldwin.

Sure enough, in front of father and son loomed the towers of Vareth Magic Institute. The heavy whirrs of machinery could be heard as ferry rotations and flashing lights all helped decorate the academy. Constructed of marble, concrete, wood, and a little bit of the X-Factor, the Institute was no less impressive.

"Come Genius, I have to meet with the head of this school."

"Yes, father." Genius mumbled, again delving into his notes. Time could not be wasted.

Eldwin remembered Vareth. He himself had once enrolled in the Institute, and found that little had changed. The sparkling cyan lights flashed; The globes of power danced in their rotation. Doors opened and closed by their own will as students and teachers ventured throughout the complex. Everything from the cafeteria to the escalators in Moon Tower and Star Tower was there, still intact. Fortunate for him: The Head of the Weissheit family had not been there for so long that he might not have found his way.

He was also surprised that Curtis Darkfeather, and his exceptional owl were still there. He knew that Curtis was over the hill, yet the dwarvish man, wrapped in a blood-red

"Yes? What may I help you with, Mister...?" Curtis, his blood red hat tipped low, asked as he heard the sound of feet. His grey mustache jutted from his face like spikes, and his visage, while ancient, still had a trace of youth. Perched on the wall behind him was the majestic, blue-feathered owl, Ray C. Ross, who stared blankly down at the father and son.

"Weissheit. Eldwin Weissheit." The master technician said.

Curtis had to raise a grey eyebrow at that.

"Oh? Well, what may I assist you with?"

"I'd like to speak with Ray C. Ross, please."

Curtis again raised an eyebrow, and looked up at his royal blue bird.

"Alone?" Curtis asked.

"No, that won't be neseccary." Eldwin pushed his glasses, and looked up. "Mr. Ross, I need your assistance."

To Genius's surprise, the owl spoke, "Oh really? Its been a while since the Weissheit technicians have paid me a visit. Not since Alphonse was pushed to take the entry exam, some seven years ago."

"Yes, Ross, that was then. Even though you CHOSE not to accept Alphonse, he still became something, didn't he?"

"Yes. It is an achievement to become a traveling weapon's peddler at age fourteen, eh?" The owl smartly replied. "Well, enough of that, Eldwin. What did you come to see me about?"

Genius interrupted. "Father, why is that screech owl talking? Is it an enchanted animal, like what the elves use?"

"Unusual boy you got, Weissheit." Curtis remarked from below his hat, the owl bobbing its head as it flew down from its perch.

"Ross, this is my second son, Genius Weissheit." Eldwin said, lightly pushing his son forward. Ray C. Ross only cocked his head, as he eyeballed the young lad. Genius, seeing this as a challenge, did likewise.

"So, you want this one to take the exam as well?" Curtis asked.

Eldwin nodded. "Well, yes."

"He's interesting." Ross said brusquely. "I shall see how he does. Curtis, please escort Mister Weissheit outside."

Curtis did. Even so, Curtis knew something was up. He had known Ray C. Ross all of his life, and could tell that Ray saw something. But the kid was only seven years old...could he have that much potential?

"Mr. Weissheit?"

"Yes?"

"I think you're going to be a proud father."

Curtis had no idea how accurate his words were.

Two hours later, Genius set down his pencil on his parchment, and lowered his glasses. It was safe to say that he could not predict the outcome of this test, even though his usual feeling of correctness was vacant.

The brown-haired boy could see why his brother Alphonse had failed when he tried, years ago. Many of these questions were vagrantly obscure; He wondered if even this owl knew the answers.

"Name the four dragons of myth...I thought they were defined by element alone. And proctectorate of race? I assumed they sided with no one..."

While the test bothered him only slightly, the owl before him disturbed him tremendously. Everytime Genius looked up, the owl was leaning forward from the desk, his oval black eyes penetrating his mind. It unnerved him greatly, and he averted his eyes, but he knew that would not change anything. It didn't matter about this owl.

With a final flur (He tried to answer the dragon question, but probably didn't get it), Genius finished, and handed it to Ray C. Ross. Ross turned his head, grabbed the paper with its talon, and set it aside.

"Do you know of magic, boy?" The owl asked, his back to him.

"Yes."

"What would you say if I gave you the chance to learn such magic? You seem to know much as it is?"

Genius, as a child, didn't fully understand the sentence. His eyebrow raised as he tried to put it all together. It was true he had heard of magic and spells, but only the most powerful of mages could perform a spell without the assistance of wand or book. Genius had never really thought of it before.

"I'm not really sure." The Weissheit son relented.

"Well, I tell you what: I'm not exactly sure, as you're still three years below the usual age of entry, but I'll take this gamble. I'm going to accept your enrollment into the Vareth Magic Institute."

Genius, not sure that he had heard, blinked, and said, "Excuse me, sir? You want me to enroll? But you barely looked over-"

"I can tell you're a smart lad by the way you present yourself, boy." Ross intervined. "But you have no ability in magic. Luckily for you, that intelligence should more than help you.

"Now, Curtis will handle the paperwork with your father, but I need you to stay in the dormatories with the other students. I'll put you with Professor Cecil's class for now." The owl hooted. "For now, I suggest you pack."

Genius merely remarked, "All right."

At the age of seven, no matter his intelligence, Genius had little idea of what he was doing. All he saw was simply writing his 'hancock' on a document, saying he wished to go into the Institute. He wasn't aware that he was breaking a record, being the youngest child to enroll into Vareth.

To him, this was all about progress.  
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End 


End file.
